The Heavenly Twins. Grand Sarah
his father-in-law's fuss and fume.
"Why have you left her? What are you doing here? Explain," Mr. Frayling demanded almost angrily.
Major Colquhoun related the little he knew, and Mr. Frayling plumped down into a chair to listen, and bounced up again, when all was said, to speak.
"Let me send for her mother," he began, showing at once where, in an emergency, he felt that his strength lay. "No, though, I'd better go myself and prepare her," he added on second thought. "We mustn't make a fuss—with all the servants about too. They would talk." And then he fussed off himself, with agitation evident in every step.
Something like a smile disturbed Major Colquhoun's calm countenance for a moment, and then he stood, twisting the ends of his fair moustache slowly with his left hand, and gazing into the fire, which shone reflected in his steely blue eyes, making them glitter like pale sapphires, coldly, while he waited.
Mr. Frayling returned with his wife almost immediately. The latter had had her handkerchief in her hand all day, but she put it in her pocket now.
Major Colquhoun had to repeat his story.
"Did you look for her in the waiting rooms?" Mrs. Frayling asked.
"No."
"She may be there waiting for you at this very moment."
It was a practical suggestion.
"But the porter said he saw her get into a hansom," Major Colquhoun objected.
"He said he saw a young lady in gray get into a hansom, I understood you to say," Mrs. Frayling corrected him. "A young lady in gray is not necessarily Evadne. There might be a dozen young ladies in gray in such a crowd."
"There might, yes," Mr. Frayling agreed.
"And the proof that it was not Evadne is that she is not here," her mother proceeded. "If she had been seen getting into a hansom it could only have been to come here."
"A hansom might break down on the way," said Major Colquhoun, entertaining the idea for a moment.
"That is not impossible," Mr. Frayling decided.
"But why should she come here?" Major Colquhoun slowly pursued, looking hard at his parents-in-law. "Had she any objection to marrying me? Was she overpersuaded into it?"
"Oh, no!" Mrs. Frayling exclaimed emphatically. "How can you suppose such a thing? We should never have dreamed of influencing the dear child in such a matter. If there were ever a case of love at first sight it was one. Why, her first words on awaking this morning, were: 'Oh, mother! I am so happy!' and that doesn't sound like being overpersuaded!"
"Then what, in God's name, is the explanation of all this?" Major
Colquhoun exclaimed, showing some natural emotion for the first time.
"That is it," said Mr. Frayling energetically. "There must be some explanation."
"Heaven grant that the dear child has not been entrapped in some way and carried off, and robbed, and murdered, or something dreadful," Mrs. Frayling cried, giving way to the strain all at once, and wringing her hands.
Then they looked at each other, and the period of speculation was followed by a momentary interregnum of silence, which would in due course be succeeded by a desire to act, to do something, if nothing happened in the meantime. Something did happen, however. The door bell rang violently. They looked up and listened. The hall door was opened. Footsteps approached, paused outside the library, and then the butler entered, and handed Mr. Frayling a telegram on a silver salver.
"Is there any answer, sir?" he asked.
Mr. Frayling opened it with trembling hands and read it. "No; no answer," he said.
The butler looked at them all as if they interested him, and withdrew.
"Well," cried Mrs. Frayling, her patience exhausted. "Is it from her?"
"Yes," Mr. Frayling replied, "It was handed in at the General Post Office at—"
"The General Post Office!" Major Colquhoun ejaculated. "What on earth took her there?"
"The hansom, you know," said Mrs. Frayling. "Oh, dear"—to her husband—"do read it."
"Well, I'm going to, if you'll let me," he answered irritably, but delaying, nevertheless, to mutter something irrelevant about women's tongues. Then he read: "'Don't be anxious about me. Have received information about Major C.'s character and past life which does not satisfy me at all, and am going now to make further inquiries. Will write.'"
"Information about my character and past life!" exclaimed Major Colquhoun.
"Why, what is wrong with my character? What have I done?"
"Oh, the child is mad! she must be mad!" Mrs. Frayling ejaculated.
Mr. Frayling fumed up and down the room in evident perturbation. He had not a single phrase ready for such an occasion, nor the power to form one, and was consequently compelled to employ quite simple language.
"You had better make inquiries at the post office," he said to Major Colquhoun, "and try and trace her. You must follow her and bring her back at once, if possible."
"Not I, indeed," was Major Colquhoun's most unexpected rejoinder; "I shall not give myself any trouble on her account; she may go."
"Oh, for Heaven's sake, don't say that, George!" Mrs. Frayling exclaimed. "You do love her, and she loves you; I know she does. Some dreadful mischief-making person has come between you. But wait, do wait, until you know more. It will all come right in the end. I am sure it will."
Major Colquhoun compressed his lips and looked sullenly into the fire.
CHAPTER XIV.
On the third day after Evadne's wedding, in the afternoon, Mrs. Orton Beg was sitting alone in her long, low drawing room by the window which looked out into the high-walled garden. She had found it difficult to occupy herself with books and work that day. Her sprained ankle had been troublesome during the night, and she had risen late, and when her maid had helped her to dress, and she had limped downstairs on her crutches, and settled herself in her long chair, she found herself disinclined for any further exertion, and just sat, reclining upon pale pink satin cushions, her slender hands folded upon her lap, her large, dark luminous eyes and delicate, refined features all set in a wistful sadness.
There was a singular likeness between herself and Evadne in some things, a vague, haunting family likeness which continually obtruded itself but could not be defined. It had been more distinct when Evadne was a child, and would doubtless have grown greater had she lived with her aunt, but the very different mental attitude which she gradually acquired had melted the resemblance, as it were, so that at nineteen, although her slender figure, and air, and carriage continually recalled Mrs. Orton Beg, who was then in her thirty-fifth year, the expression of her face was so different that they were really less alike than they had been when Evadne was four years younger. Evadne's disposition, it must be remembered, was essentially swift to act. She would, as a human being, have her periods of strong feeling, but that was merely a physical condition in no way affecting her character; and the only healthy minded happy state for her was the one in which thought instantly translated itself into action.
With Mrs. Orton Beg it was different. Her spiritual nature predominated, her habits of mind were dreamy. She lived for the life to come entirely, and held herself in constant communion with another world. She felt it near her, she said. She believed that its inhabitants visit the earth, and take cognizance of all we do and suffer; and she cherished the certainty of one day assuming a wondrous form, and entering upon a new life, as vivid and varied and as real as this, but far more perfect. Her friends were chiefly of her own way of thinking;